Walk On Through
by scififreak
Summary: Jean keeps having a recurring dream. It's showing her what she wants but will she have the courage to take it?


WALK ON THROUGH

  
  


Summary: When you only see two doors, two choices, keep looking. A third door might suddenly appear with your future and unexpected happiness behind it. 

  
  


Pairing: J/S/L, J/O

  
  


Rating: G

  
  


Disclaimer: Marvel owns the X-Men not I. No money is being made off of this story. The only thing being spent is my time.

  
  


A/N: This is basically movieverse but, truthfully, it could be the movie or the comics. Nothing really makes it exclusively movieverse. I just had the movieverse in my head as I wrote it. I pictured the movieverse characters in my head and their personalities as portrayed in the movie.

  
  
  
  


In her dreams she saw two doors: one leading to Scott and the other leading to Logan. 

She knew which door was which by the style of the door. Scott's was solid oak with no decorations or add-ons. Simple, secure and understated, like Scott. Logan's was hidden behind a wall of tangled vines like the door from the Secret Garden. It was unruly, wild and nearly impossible to penetrate, like Logan. But tonight was different from the previous nights. Tonight in her dreams she saw a third door. It was big, very big and intricately carved with scenes from life in the various panels. One panel was of a garden, another was of people dancing, another looked like people having a serious discussion at a table, another was of a woman crying with her back to the ocean. She ran her hands over the door, loving the texture of it. The fact that it had varied textures was a marvel to her. Scott's door was perfectly smooth so there was no point in touching it. You saw what it felt like. And Logan's was best left untouched. To touch the door was to risk being injured because of the thorns. But this door had texture. It was smooth in some places, a little rough in others, grainy in still more places...a mosaic. Yes, this door was it, the one she had been waiting for. She pushed on it and found it to be heavy, heavier than Scott's door actually, but possible to get through with a little effort, unlike Logan's. When the door was opened a bright light, almost blinding in its intensity, shown forth. As she walked over the threshold a gusty wind picked up and she had to lower her head and hunch her shoulders to fight the resistance but she forged on ahead, step by step.

As she moved forward, step by step, she became increasingly aware of a buzzing sound all around her that was becoming steadily louder. All of a sudden she was rapidly moving away from the light and the door and the dream and beginning to rise toward the surface of her conscious mind, like a deep sea diver. When she broke through she half rose, slammed her hand down upon the alarm clock and then collapsed back down upon her bed. She didn't bother to look at the clock but it felt like 8 am to her. Too early to be awake and thinking. But, here she was, awake and thinking. The dream she had just had was foremost on her mind. The third door wasn't the only thing different about this dream. Before, she had always had a feeling of weariness and sadness when she awakened from the door dream, but this morning she felt an unfamiliar sense of relief and...excitement? Yes, that was it, excitement.

For the past 6 months since Logan had been back, Jean had been feeling pressure from all sides to decide what, or more specifically who, she wanted. But this decision that everyone seemed to think was a "no brainer" was very difficult for her. She had to reevaluate her entire life which meant redetermining who Jean Grey was. Her situation, with Logan and Scott on opposite sides of the room, seemed to be black and white. Scott was White and Logan was Black. Scott was security and safety and Logan was danger and adventure. It wasn't until she realized that she herself wasn't either black or white that she understood why she could not choose between them. She didn't want either of the two extremes- she wanted gray, to be gray. And she smiled when she realized that she, herself, was now a pun. It was after that day that she began to sleep better. But she suspected it was what happened yesterday that caused her recurrent dream to change. 

She was in the garden, more specifically their large English type maze, trying to avoid both Logan and Scott. She had already decided that while she loved them both for different reasons neither of them was enough for her, but she had yet to tell them that. She had to think of a way to tell them without sounding cruel and judgmental. And she had been surprised to find out that a mansion became really small when you were trying to avoid two people. The only place she knew of that neither of them would frequent was the garden. Logan avoided the garden because it was too tame. He loved nature, but nature in its wild, untamed splendor. Scott avoided the garden because it reminded him of the fact that he could no longer see the vibrant colors that he remembered from early childhood. 

She loved the maze most of all. It was her favorite part of the garden. She liked to purposely get lost in it. She thought of the mind like a maze. So it was literally like getting lost within her own thoughts. She was slowly walking the paths, thinking of ways to tell Logan and Scott, when she saw, or rather noticed Ororo, sitting upon a bench ahead of her. Their resident Goddess was smiling as Jean approached and she couldn't help feeling like a little bit of grace was being bestowed upon her. Accidently being on the student email list, and thus receiving the student poll on the hottest woman at the school, told her that she was believed to be the most beautiful woman at Xavier's. It was an honor that both perplexed and annoyed her. She personally thought that Ororo was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Her own beauty was rather conventional, she thought. But Ororo's was unique and transcendental compared to everyone else. 

  
  


"Jean, how wonderful to see you here!" She said when Jean was a few feet away. "Hardly anyone, except me, comes out here so I am glad to see someone enjoying the garden and even more glad that that someone is you." Jean couldn't stop the unexpected blush that colored her cheeks upon receiving Ororo's compliment. Ororo's compliments, like diamonds, were highly regarded because of their rarity and composition. 

  
  


"Thank you, Ororo. I just came out here to think." 

  
  


"You mean that you came out here to get away from Scott and Logan." 

  
  


Jean laughed, "Yes, that too, but I really do love this garden and maze. I am more at peace here than anywhere else." 

  
  


Ororo patted the space on the bench next to her and Jean sat down. She turned sideways on the bench and Jean followed suit so that they were facing one another. It was a warm day and Ororo was wearing a dark blue, long sleeved pheasant top, slightly bell-bottomed jeans, and flip flop sandals. Jean herself was wearing a white tank top, cut off shorts, and a pair of white Keds. They both had their hair pulled back. Jean's in a french braid and Ororo's in a simple ponytail at the nape of her neck. 

  
  


After a moment Ororo said, "So, how is the whole Logan/Scott/Jean triangle? Not accepting applications for a fourth member are you?" 

  
  


"God, no. Like my life needs to get more complicated. Matter of fact, the triangle is going to be a double or something cause I am leaving it. I'm through."

  
  


"Really?" She said with more than a hint of skepticism. "REALLY." I emphasized. "I finally decided that what I want is neither Scott or Logan. Don't get me wrong, they are both great guys but choosing one of them would mean choosing either white or black." She gave me a puzzled look and I explained. "Look, Scott and Logan are at opposite ends of the spectrum. Yin and Yang, alpha and omega...etc. To choose either would mean that what I want is either/or. Either the safety and security of Scott or the wild danger of Logan. But, Ororo, I'm not like that. I'm gray. No pun intended. What I want, they can't give me." 

  
  


She looked either hopeful or happy, I couldn't tell. But I was sure that the whole mansion would have that happy look once this daytime drama was over. 

  
  


"Jean, what do you want then? 

  
  


She reached for and took hold of my right hand as I was answering her. "I don't know. I want.....THAT." She looked at me strangely not realizing what had just happened. I'm not a touch telepath naturally but I can pick up on a person's surface thoughts and essence if I touch them and they are really open at that moment and I'm not actively disciplining or blocking myself to their thoughts. Ororo and I had such a moment and for what seemed like an elongated instant I saw ORORO and she was magnificent. All multidimensional and bright. A kaleidoscope of colors and images. At that moment I realized my mistake. I had wanted to be gray, both the black and the white, but Ororo was indigo. Indigo is all the colors of the rainbow blended, not just black and white. It's everything. Strong and sturdy, calm and mellow, wild and free...and so much more. 

  
  


"You want what?" She was looking at me expectantly but I didn't think that I could verbally convey to her what I had just seen. "I want this." I raised my hand to her head and was surprised when she didn't move or stop me. I touched her and with my mind showed her what I had just seen of her. "I want color, Ororo, I want to step into the light, I want...."

  
  


"Yes....?" 

  
  


Looking at her concerned yet still hopeful brown eyes I got a familiar feeling in my gut that told or indicated to me what I wanted but I couldn't say it. Not aloud, not now. 

  
  


"I want...I don't know what I want, Ororo."

  
  


She looked a tiny bit disappointed I thought, but the look was quickly gone. "I understand. I know a bit about wanting something that you can't or won't name. When you are ready to say what you want let me know." She stood up, laid a hand on my shoulder and then walked back towards the house. 

  
  


Thinking back on the events of the day before in the garden and the implications of them, Jean knew that going back to sleep would be impossible. She got up and decided to face the day. Not wanting to make a fuss she grabbed a red velour track suit out of her closet, put it on, pulled a brush through her hair about 3 times, put it in a ponytail and then put on her less than fresh smelling red pumas. Everyone would be shocked if they found out how little she cared about her looks. They all thought she was a prima donna or something but that just wasn't the truth. It wasn't her fault that she was low maintenance and still looked good. And Ororo was exactly the same way, she just didn't get all the grief that Jean did. When she looked amazing and claimed to have just gotten up and thrown on a simple cotton dress, washed her face, ran her fingers through her hair and just left, people talked about how close to the earth and natural she was. When Jean made a similar claim people, women in particular, gave her that "I hate her" look.

  
  


When she got downstairs she was surprised to find the house seemingly empty. She telepathically contacted the professor who told her that Ororo and Scott had taken the children to the museum. Of course. She had forgotten. Almost every weekend there was an optional day trip for the children. This weekend the trip was to the art museum. The professor had informed her that Logan was still around, however. He was in the danger room. Well, she thought, here goes nothing. In the elevator, on the way down, she thought about what she would say to him and rehearsed it in her mind. But upon reaching the danger room she stood outside the doors and decided to forget the speech. This had to be real, not rehearsed. She pressed her palm to the identification wall panel, stepped inside the room when the door opened, and said, "Hey Logan." He looked up, smiled and said, "Hey Red." It was a good beginning to what she knew would be a bad conversation. 

  
  


He looked good-as always and for a moment she thought that maybe she was acting too hastily, but that, she knew, was just her hormones talking. Logan always had that affect on her. One look and her insides would melt. Having so little self control around a person is very bad. Especially when one is a telepath and has the ability to project one's feelings to an entire room.

  
  


"So....," he said after a few moments when she remained silent and didn't make any effort to move further inside the room, "What's up Red?" She walked towards him, stopping when she was an arm's length away. 

  
  


"Logan, we need to talk. I've made a decision about us."

  
  


He crossed his arms over his chest in a trademarked "Logan" stance. "Uh huh, So what's the verdict, Red?" 

  
  


"Well, uh, Logan, this may sound harsh but I can't be with you. I'm sorry." 

  
  


He first looked down and she thought that he was really hurt, but when he looked back up she could see that he was angry, very angry. Well, she thought, there goes my hopes of this being quick, easy, and relatively painless.

  
  


"No, that's not the end of it, I know how you feel about me, Jean! Don't you dare try and deny it!

  
  


After an hour of screaming, yelling and tears, Jean was ready to mentally shut down. She was emotionally exhausted. Her throat hurt, her head hurt, her stomach hurt. And they all hurt a little bit more when she thought about having to have a repeat performance when Scott got home. 

She spent the rest of the day catching up on work, both in the lab and in her classes. It was about six when the group came back. The kids were excitedly talking about what they had seen with Scott, Ororo, and each other. Jean hated to see the smile leave his face-they were pretty rare, but this had to be done. She telepathically told him to meet her outside in the garden. He met her in the garden and they just stared at one another for a time. There was so much of the past and present between them. It was hard to believe that there would be no future. She finally took a breath and said, "Scott." And he, in reply, said, "Jean." 

  
  


They both cracked tired and humorless smiles. They were trying to be as strong as they could now, because they knew that later, when they were each alone, that they would both break. How did you end a relationship with someone that you still loved. That was hardest part of a break up like this. Had she not loved him she could have ended it faster albeit cruelly.

  
  


"Scott, I..."

  
  


He held up his right hand and turned his head slightly away, "Don't Jean, just don't. I know what you're going to say and I don't need to hear it." 

  
  


"Please, Scott, I need to explain myself. I didn't come to this decision lightly and I need you to know that. Please." 

  
  


"Why Jean, why!? To rationalize your own behavior, to feel good about yourself? 'Well, at least I was up-front with Scott before I left him for Logan.'"

  
  


She ran a hand through her hair and briefly closed her eyes. "No, Scott. It's not like that. I'm not leaving you for Logan. Now please, let me explain."

  
  


About an hour later it was over. A six year relationship and partnership ended. There was no yelling or screaming, that wasn't Scott and Jean, just tears and the silent breaking apart of two hearts that had been forged into one. That's all they took back from one another, their hearts.

  
  


Six months later Jean was back in the maze. They had all survived six months of uncomfortable silences, hostile looks, and whispering and gossiping behind their backs. Things were not totally back to normal and they weren't quite friends but they were getting there. Their lives were going on and Jean was happier now than she had been in a long time. Everyone had been giving her space, and she appreciated it, but she was now ready to put the past away. 

  
  


This time she was sitting on the bench when she saw Ororo approaching. Like the others, Ororo gave her her space, but she also made herself available when Jean needed a shoulder to cry on or someone to listen to her late at night when she couldn't sleep. As she got closer Jean felt a smile tug at her mouth when she saw that she looked amazing in overalls and a crop top. Ororo saw her smirk and asked, "What?" 

  
  


"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking that you probably rolled out of bed this morning looking that amazing." 

  
  


She smiled brilliantly. "Nonsense. You just don't know, it takes me a good 20 minutes to look this good."

  
  


"Whatever." I rolled my eyes as she sat down.

  
  


"Well, you're looking very good yourself today. Do you feel as good as you look- on the inside, that is." 

  
  


She looked slightly embarrassed and I wondered if that was a Freudian slip. 

  
  


"I feel wonderful, Ororo. Better than I expected to. I made the right decision six months ago." 

  
  


She scooted closer and took my hand. "Have you figured out what you want?" 

  
  


I looked at her hand upon mine, then I looked into her eyes. So much of herself was reflected in them. Normally she kept her emotions and feelings in check, but with me she had always been open and candid. Right now I saw love, patience, wildness, vulnerability and everything else that made up Ororo Munroe. I laid my free hand upon hers and squeezed. 

  
  


"I do know what I want, Ororo. But I'm afraid. I've lived in a gray world for so long that I am terrified to step into the light, into the technicolor world. I now know how Dorothy must have felt. Her world was drab and gray until she opened the door to this magical technicolor place that was so much more beautiful, fulfilling, and bright than the world she had known before. You know I told you about my door dream some months ago, but I never told you that I started dreaming about a third door. It was a beautiful door, the third option I had been looking for. I think, no, I know, that you were that third door. I walked through it in my dreams, but now, being awake....I don't know..."

  
  


"Jean, walk on through, just walk on through." 

  
  


With her free hand she cupped my cheek and slowly moved her face closer to mine. She stopped inches from my face, looking into my eyes, waiting for me to make the final decision. I decided once and for all to walk through that door. And when our lips touched I saw myself, in my mind's eye, stepping over the threshold into the bright light and gusty wind and not looking back. 


End file.
